


All Fall Down

by ShyOwl



Series: The Fall [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Character Study, Dark Tony Stark, M/M, Magical Realism, Obsessive Behavior, Out of Body Experiences, Possessive Behavior, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Suicidal Thoughts, Talk of Suicide, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-20 08:29:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9482825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShyOwl/pseuds/ShyOwl
Summary: Steve dies in the battle against Thanos. Strangely, that’s not where his bad news ends.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (had to do a repost again)
> 
> This is a prequel to _Hush Now_ but can be read before or after you read that one-shot. This is also a bit of a character stud and a massive love-poem to Steve (basically), so be ready for a lot of Steve. This is also a cliche I love and haven't seen much of yet. Just let me have my possessive-Tony.
> 
> Be warned! There are some dark moments and topics within the story. Please heed the tags. Also, this chapter has some minor "Homophobic Language" corresponding with the 1920's.

-o-

Steve gasped so hard he thought he would vomit.

His head felt like it was caving in, like he could feel his skull cracking into his brain, and his back and chest were on fire. He was burning to nothing more than ash. He was pulled inside out and outside in and his lungs filled with icy-foam. Everything inside of him was melting and freezing and breaking simultaneously and all he wanted to do was scream but the foam stole his voice and all he could do was choke and wither.

Then it stopped and he gasped again as if he had just taken his first breath of life.

Panting, Steve’s legs and fingers twitched aggressively, he stared up at stars that looked brighter and closer than he’d ever experienced.

Memory was foggy, but just for a short while, as the aftershocks of pain left his body. Soon he remembered and nothing made much sense. 

“Oh.” He blinked as he slowly drew himself up. “Oh…”

He knew he had taken a hit. A bad one. He had made an impulsive move and suffered for it with agony followed by a crunch into earth that would not be easy, even for him and his serum, to just walk off.

He remembered blackness bleeding into his eyes as he heard someone, Tony, in the distant screaming his name. It had been raw and painful to hear. Tony was suffering, again, and it wasn’t fair and all Steve wanted to do was make it better.

“T-Tony?” He called out softly. No answer and that chilled him. What happened to Tony? To his team? Were they safe? Did they win or lose?

Gently, he started to maneuver his body to assets his injuries. Nothing creaked, groaned, or gave him any pain. He risked moving his neck to gather his surroundings and found there was a lack of pain or stiffness there too. No damage.

He looked around, hoping to figure out where he landed, but realized instantly that was not going to happen.

Steve got a feeling that waking up to the universe after such a hit was not a good sign.

He looked down and touched his chest where he knew those few holes had been a few seconds prior and found his skin and suit intact. No blood found anywhere. He probed the areas with his finger and found no tenderness to greet him back.

“Oh no.”

Steve was on his feet instantly and started jumping. No feeling of fatigue from the long battle, no pain from the wounds, no heaviness at all. Add that to his surroundings of what appeared to be literal outer-space orbiting all around him…purples and greens and blues of galaxies and twinkles of stars...and he was able to breathe and walk…his skin felt a touch of a coolness. 

He was comfortable and that really did not sound like good news.

“Well, shit.” He swallowed and looked around, praying someone will laugh out “language!” mockingly. It was silent and still. As he walked he felt pressure under the soles of his feet as if he were walking on physical concrete rather than inky, starry nothing.

He swallowed thickly again and tried to keep his mind from spinning in confusion and ‘what-ifs’. Wherever he was he was there already. The worst thing he could do would worry and fret and delay himself from a plan.

Waking up to what looked like outer space was certainly the craziest experience he’d suffered from yet. It was on the top, sure, but he still thought falling in love with a genius philanthropist and having a belly-flop contest with a god of thunder (who cheats) and somehow surviving a freeze for seventy-years may take the crazier slice of cake. 

He reached backwards only to discover he was without his shield. 

Lost in new surroundings, outer space maybe, and without any weapon or injuries. The bad news kept piling up and a sinking feeling arose in his gut that he tried his best to squash down. What else was he to believe though? Thanos came from space, did this mean they lost?

Cursing, Steve desperately looked around for signs of life, “Tony? Nat? Bucky?” Each cry received no answer. He called through the whole list of his friends and family. He even went so far to call out to Heimdall, the guarding of Asgard who saw everything, for an answer and help.

Nothing. Not even an echo. Space still maneuvered along silently and imposing.

“H-Hello?” His voice cracked a bit and he quickly cleared his throat. “Anyone?”

Steve found his heartbeat picking up pace and he took a few seconds to inhale and exhale. A panic-attack was unnecessary and foolish. He was still a soldier and he needed to remain like one if he wanted to figure things out. 

Another deep breath and his thudding heart eased a bit.

‘Perhaps a vision like what Wanda put me through?’ 

That made sense. Who knew what sort of magic the Avengers and world were dealing with. He’d also seen some media talk about a person fall under the spell of venom and hallucinate so vividly they believed it real. 

Steve touched his chest again, hating how there were no injuries still found, and hoped there was a simple fix to the mess.

He closed his eyes and concentrated exactly how Scarlet Witch taught him should he ever get stuck in an hallucination similar to her own making. He concentrated fiercely, hoping to awaken some sort of unknown psychic ability to break himself out of whatever prison he was in.

His head started to pound after minutes of nothing so he pulled back. Right into the same outer space…he cursed again and pushed a hand through his hair. He’d need to make a new plan soon and head off into a direction or nothing will happen. And Steve Rogers struggled doing nothing.

Steve decided to start with the basics; he was in battle, he got hurt, he fell, and he woke up in an unusual location. The biggest question he needed to discover was the between of the fall and waking up.

“What happened, Rogers?” He asked aloud hoping for an answer but did not expect anything.

Of course, that was when he got one.

“You’re dead.”

Steve spun around, arms up in ready position, and his senses set on the edge of a knife. He had not heard nor felt anyone approaching. 

“Phil?” He whispered out, stunned.

It was Phil Coulson. Right there, just a few feet in front of him, hands in his pockets, and his head slightly titled. Phil regarded Steve without any warmth as he had when he was alive but there was no contempt either. It was a very neutral expression. 

He was still wearing his agent-attire, the one he died in, and his body stiff and still.

“No,” Steve shook his head and took another look at the man before him. Something was off. Everything looked like Phil, impeccably so, but the facial expressions and eyes just did not match. His aura, something Steve had become rather talented at sensing, was off…it wasn’t even there. “You’re not Phil.”

“I am not.”

“You look almost identical to him.”

The man looked down at himself, as if to take in his own appearance, and nodded. “I find it easier that I look like someone close to you. Easier to hear a familiar voice from a familiar face.”

“Well no offense, but I find it a bit unsettling and creepy. Especially since Phil is dead.”

“Hmm,” The thing tilted its head. “I understand, however, you should not see my real form and I rather like this suit.”

There was something foreboding to the statement and Steve decided to respect the warning and not push for more. He remembered his Greek mythology and Indiana Jones binging. “So,” he licked his lips and motioned around them. “Could you let me know what’s going on?”

“You’re dead.” The being repeated and very simply at that.

“Ah.” Steve had heard him the first time but he had hoped he had heard wrong. Or that it was a threat from an enemy for him to beat. “I…I see. Well,” he cleared his throat, it felt so tight and dry, and sniffed. His eyes felt too hard for his skull and, embarrassingly, wet. He wanted to deny it, he should deny it, but his senses told him otherwise. “That was bound to happen, huh?”

“You were in a dangerous occupation. It was quite lucky you hadn’t suffered this fate before. You and your Avengers have had many too close calls. One of you would die on the field eventually.”

“Is it just me?” Steve found his tone sounded on the verge of begging. “I’m the only one who is here?”

“Yes. Of your close friends you were the only casualty. There were others, comrades, that I am sure you would mourn, but none that you personally knew.” 

“Oh, good, good.” He rubbed his face and found his hands shaking. The Avengers were alive. The relief surging through his veins was almost painful. “They’re all ok then? Did we win?”

“Yes, you and your comrades won.” It, he, looked as if it wanted to say something more but held itself back and answered the other questions. “Physically, most all of them will be ready for battle within two weeks. Mentally,” It shrugged. 

“It was war.” Steve said, his voice just above a whisper. He wondered how everyone was handling everything. Were they all together? Did they get a chance to breathe and just hold one another before the political clean up started? Was Bucky avoiding a meltdown? Was Tony?

“Indeed it was.” The after-death being approached him and slowly walked around Steve’s form. There was nothing predatory or hateful in its stare but Steve remained prepared for an attack regardless. 

“So, what now? I…what’s next I mean. If I’m really dead,” the word actually had a taste and it was unpleasant. He thought he was prepared to die in battle but he had hoped if that ever happened he’d find himself in front of the Pearly Gates with his mama on the other side. Thinking of his mother made his eyes hurt more. “If I really am dead then where do I go?”

“That will be shown to you later. For now, please, take a walk with me. This view is something to be admired.”

Steve felt grey-faced. “Hard to deny that. Am I in Purgatory?” His face fell in fear and confusion. Throughout all his Catholic upbringing Purgatory was made out to be an empty area where everything sin was purged out. Witnessing the movement of the galaxy, in all its gorgeous purples, greens, and stars felt almost heaven-like to an artist like himself. Save for the important details that he was alone, he was with a stranger that was wearing the suit of a friend, and he had no art-supplies…maybe this was Hell.

“No, just a small walk-way of the in-between.”

That made Steve laugh a little. “This…this _galaxy_ is small?”

“Hmm, you are one of the species that are still so limited in their view. You don’t think death would be grander than all of this?” It motioned to everything. “This is beautiful and grand but still real. Still alive in your sense of the word. Death is in its own realm. It is something even greater.”

“Right.” Steve felt very small next to the man as they walked slowly through the galaxy. He watched in rapture as they approached Saturn, watched from such a distant he could actually see its rotation. He wished Tony could see this. 

Steve inhaled sharply and tried to shake off the overwhelming sense of loneliness that crawled into his veins. “It’s a pity I can’t draw this.”

“Perhaps you can eventually.”

His fists clenched and unclenched and he heard the joints pop. “I hope you don’t get insulted but I’m not feeling very patient. What is going on?”

“Well, you are dead as I have said before. And this is a walkway of the in-between. It is not Purgatory but it is something before you move on. You’re here to see things. To undergo a test. Perhaps get some answers.” The man, the not-Phil, shrugged.

Steve looked suspicious. “Why do I get this honor? Or is it standard after battle? Or after any death?”

“I’d say you’re a special case.”

Steve licked his lips. His stomach felt queasy. The desire reflex to vomit approached again. Could ghosts get sick? It would really be a downer to find out that killing him is what finally got him ill. “Why is that?”

“Because you were wrong. And right. And you apologized for it all by being a good man and dying for it.”

“Well that is…certainly an answer.”

“Why should death give you anything clear? Do you think it owes you anything for taking you away from your life? For doing what it is supposed to do?”

That made Steve think and then nod. “I suppose not. I guess I’d hoped it would be a little easier since life doesn’t cut us a break.” Steve said, his throat felt tight again.

“Please, continue to walk with me.”

“Suppose I don’t have much of a choice.”

“You do have a choice. But if you wish for more answers and understanding you must.” It said as they continued passed more swirls of light and colors. Planets continued on in the far distance, looking more alive and bright than Steve ever thought possible. 

“What do I call you during this journey?” Steve’s fingers and back felt so empty without his shield. It was another noticeable feeling of loneliness that grew heavier with each step. He needed a distraction and hopefully something clear or he feared he was going to break down.

“You do not wish to call me by your friend’s name?”

“No. That’s his name. I’d prefer to call you your name or whatever you’d wish to be known as.”

The not-Phil made another hum from his throat. He certainly was a thoughtful individual. “The Walker.”

“The Walker? With the _The_ and everything?”

“Yes. It’s what I am. I walk with you through the things that must be seen. I have no other name than that. At least nothing no human tongue could ever truly pronounce. Since you are respectful to another man’s possession I shall respect that as well.”

He was dealing with another Vision. Steve could handle that.

“Ok, The Walker.” Steve looked around and noticed the surroundings were blurring together like wet-paint. It looked distinctively foggy and darker. “Things are changing.”

“We’re about to enter into the first part of the walk.”

“What will we see?”

“What will happen, what has happened, and what is happening.”

“What?” Steve blinked as he felt a headache form. So much for clarity. 

“This is the first of your visions. First of your walk through time. You are to see things that have influenced your life and things, in turn, your death has influenced.” The Walker explained. “You have made a great tremor and I wish to show you how and why so you make a proper decision later.” 

“Time? We’re going to see…ah,” Steve blinked. “We’re going to see things from my past?”

“Along with the future you have created, yes.”

“Oh,” Steve’s face scrunched up. “Wait, I know a movie like this. It’s…uh…” His eyebrows pinched together as his memory rushed through all the movies Tony and the Avengers forced him to see. “A Christmas Carol!” Steve had really liked the Muppet rendition of it. “Or It’s A Wonderful Life, right?”

The Walker sighed but he did not sound too annoyed. “Yes. Though those movies may make it a bit too simplified…it is similar to those.”

Steve was impressed this being of death even knew what the movies were. “So, we’re…going through moments in time?”

“Of sorts. You must understand some things before you can understand yourself and the situation you have been placed in. You’ll have a decision to make. And then many more after that.”

Steve pursed his lips. “Isn’t that normal for most everyone? I don’t want to spit at a gift but I’m just curious why my choice is so important?”

“Because your dying has caused an upset. One that will very well change and harm a lot of people in the future. People who don’t deserve it. It is my hope that is changed.”

Now, Steve felt his shoulders slump in defeat. Another mistake that hurt a lot of people? 

“Here we are.”

Steve was momentarily blinded from bright sunlight that glistened off a lot of metal. It felt cool and he could even smell gasoline. There was a siren echoing in the background and a language, German perhaps, repeated a saying.

“Where…it’s the airport…oh, no.” Steve watched as himself jogged into the scene with Bucky and Tony appeared. It was so unusual to see himself from an outside perspective. He had grown used to ignoring newsfeed that had no action, what was the point if he could not learn how to fight better from it? But this…it felt like he could reach out and actually touch himself. Touch Tony. His bottom lip began to tremble at the thought. “I guess I need to see this.”

It burned his insides knowing what he was about to see.

“It’s not where everything started but it was a turning point.” The Walker said as he watched the scene play out with some detachment.

“I just…” Tony looked at Steve with anger and pleading. His brown eyes looked exhausted and stressed and his face carried a blend of green and purple from the earlier battle with Bucky. He still took Steve’s breath away. Steve remembered feeling the wind knocked out of him in this particular moment seeing Tony look so sad and brave. “I’m just trying to keep the Avengers from tearing apart.”

“You did that,” Steve heard himself say. “When you signed the Accords.”

Steve physically flinched. “I was so cruel to him.”

“You wanted him to see the error of his ways. For him to understand that the route he took was unfair to someone. Though, you tend to scold Stark rather harshly.” The Walker commented.

“Yeah, I…you know, I tried not to? I honestly did. But…I don’t know, he made me so frustrated and I never handled it well. I think I was pissed at him because he hid the Accords from me for so long. But more than that, I was angry that he wasn’t on my side. Anyone else I would’ve handled it better, even Nat, but…I just wanted Tony on my side.” Steve looked away as the battle started. “I was selfish.”

“You were. But, you still had selfless reasons associated to it as well. You were rarely selfish in your life, Steve. Sadly, the few moments you decided to be caused turmoil.”

“Guess that’s a lesson learned.”

The Walker shook his head. “I do hope that does not prevent you from thinking of yourself more in the future. You deserve something for yourself too.”

“Apparently not after seeing this.” Steve rubbed his face and gave a pitiful look to The Walker. “I need to see my betrayal to Tony, don’t I?”

The Walker shook his head. “We do not have to. I know it’s haunted you since it happened.”

“Not as much as it did him.”

“Everyone suffers differently. Your suffering is no greater or lesser than his own, despite what you may think.”

“I did not tell him I knew about his parents and then I left him behind.”

“After he had betrayed your trust twice and was blinded by rage that he nearly killed an innocent man.”

“Yeah, well,” Steve sniffed. “Technically, I betrayed first. I knew about Bucky before the Ultron-incident and before the Accords.”

“Not telling someone instantly does not mean lying. That was a shock to you as well, learning what Barnes did. Just telling Stark may not have been the wisest without some more information.”

Steve shook his head. “No, I know it would’ve caused some issues without information but Tony should’ve been told instantly. I didn’t because I was a coward.”

“Facing a harsh, heartbreaking truth and then having to share it would make most quiver. Not too mention you felt responsible for it all. Barnes slipped through your fingers and on your watch and then the Winter Soldier happened.” The Walker shook his head. “Such unwarranted guilt. But that was what made you pause. It wasn’t that Barnes would be blamed but yourself. You were afraid Stark was to blame you like you blame yourself.”

Steve gave a harsh look to his companion. “I did wrong, why are you trying to talk me out of that?”

“Because you see yourself as nothing more than a fallen hero, a villain, and not a victim. You can be multiple things at once, Steve. And a selfish mistake does not a villain make.”

Steve wanted to laugh bitterly at the attempt at humor and smack the not-Phil in the face. “Maybe not to a planet, but certainly to an individual. I’m not sure how Tony or the rest of the Avengers could ever trust me again. I got them captured, made them lose their status, I broke up our family…” His breath felt heavy. “Death probably was too easy for me.”

“Not for them.” The Walker took Steve by the shoulder and gently led him away from the fight that started. “Come, I see now the past is not what you need to see just yet. Let me show you what has happened.”

Steve nodded solemnly as they walked forward into new darkness. Like before the shadows bled into something new but nothing brighter.

“We’re,” he took in the surroundings, a bit confused. “It’s the Tower.”

“Yes.”

“It looks different? Or maybe the same. I can’t really tell.”

“It’s been four days since the battle with Thanos.”

There was no sunlight streaming in. Every massive window was covered in drapes of sorts. The place looked too clean in some places and trashed in others. It did not feel properly lived in or maybe too lived in. He couldn’t quite pinpoint what was so off about his home. It was still and dead but…

“Nat, Clint,” Steve smiled when he saw them in the center of the family room, hiding in the shadows. He almost didn’t notice them, the damned spies, in the darkness of the Tower. “They _are_ alive.”

“Mhm.”

Steve approached them but his smile dropped the closer he got.

They were pressed close together, as they normally were when they were in talking distance, their heads bowed and their forms hunched. Natasha had her face covered with her hands and Clint had his forehead pressed into her hair and shoulders. Both of their bodies shuddered as they shared breath. They said no words and they barely moved.

“Guys?”

“They cannot hear you.”

“Right, right. Sorry, but…but what’s wrong?”

“You’re dead.”

“I know I am.” Steve huffed, a bit insulted at the repeat. “But what…oh…wait,” he blinked. “This is about me?”

“Of course it is. Did you not expect your friends to mourn?”

“I…well,” Steve blinked again and found himself surprised with his reply, “No. I…I didn’t think they would.”

“Why not?”

“I…I don’t know. I thought it would be expected of me. I’m a soldier. I’m out there ready to die constantly and I messed up. I just…” He shook his head as if the image would change at any second. “I was just their shield.”

“Apparently, you were not.”

Natasha took a sharp breath and her breathing pattern completely changed and she folded in on herself more. She gasped and choked as silently as she could but Steve could tell instantly what she was doing.

“She weeps for you.” The Walker informed. “They both do. They all do.”

Steve couldn’t turn his eyes away for a moment. Natasha was sobbing into her hands and Clint, holding on to her, was doing the same into her shoulders. They said nothing, barely made noise as they cried, but they were weeping something fierce. Steve had never seen such emotions from the two assassins.

“Here, you must see the rest.”

“I do?” Steve whimpered, his voice broken.

“Yes. Please follow.”

The two took the elevator like normal but neither Natasha nor Clint moved their heads from another as it echoed with a ding and the doors swished open and closed.

“Who,” Steve licked his lips. “Who is next?”

“Bruce.”

“Oh.”

They arrived to the labs sooner than normal and the elevator doors opened up instantly into the lab rather than a hall. Bruce was hovering over his desk, looking through papers calmly, though the surrounding area was messy. His whole workspace was filled with bottles of beer, empty cups of what Steve assumed was coffee, loads of papers and computer screens…the screens were filled with images of the battle.

“We were filmed?” Steve choked as he watched the familiar fight, it happened just a few minutes ago, repeated itself on the screens. 

“Of sorts. SHIELD and other sources used drones and such to help keep tabs of the battle so people could find one another easier. It was recorded in the hope of victory to learn from it.”

“And Bruce is watching it?”

“Because you all won. He wants to learn what went wrong with it.”

“But that’s not Bruce’s job. It’s not in his forte at all. He’s a scientist. He studies radiation and genetics and such. What is he doing studying this?” Steve looked around. “And alone at that?”

“He doesn’t know what else to do.”

Steve approached the rumpled man and discovered Bruce was growing a beard. It was frazzled and unkempt and his shirt looked shredded and stained with sweat and coffee. “When was the last time he did anything but study the feed?”

“At least three days now.”

“God,” Steve wanted to press a hand on Bruce’s shoulder, and tried, but his hand phased right through. “I know I’m dead.” Steve muttered before The Walker could say anything. “Bruce…oh, oh Bruce, no, don’t do this.” He begged as the feed changed to Steve limp in the ground.

His friend did not hear him as his frantic, glazed eyes absorbed the sight. Steve had not noticed earlier but Bruce’s normally brown eyes were shinning green. Bruce paused before the drone’s video moved on to another location and he pulled out a sheet of paper that had unusual scribbles on it, possibly equations, and wrote more. 

Steve was not sure what he was looking at.

“Twelve-minutes. It was twelve-minutes. Why did no one come and help?” He muttered to himself as he bit his thumb. “Would it be useful after twelve-minutes? FRIDAY, what was the resurrection period of the drowning victim again? The one from ten years ago? I can’t…I need to remember.”

“What is he doing?” Steve asked.

“Besides Stark, no one came to your side for roughly the time-span Banner is talking about. He’s trying to figure out if there had been a way to save you. He’s making calculations on what timespan you needed to be saved, if you could have, and if there are ways for your serum to become like an epi-pen or defibrillator in future battles so this does not happen again.”

“But that’s cheating death.”

“Indeed. It’s not a good thing, I assure you.” The Walker sounded a little annoyed. It would interfere with his work, Steve supposed. “Your friend does not see it that way.”

Bruce growled and threw his papers to the side. “No, I need something longer than twelve-minutes. Just…damnmit. Replay the feed again. I need to see Steve hit the ground to notice what was the killing blow. Maybe…maybe if I can just grasp that better…”

Steve felt nauseated. “He’s not making sense.”

“As I said, he’s been at this for three days. He’s not in a good mental place.”

“But the Hulk--”

“Has appeared a few times but it seems even the destructive counterpart is aware, though bias due to Bruce’s state, of how important this research is and does not wish to break anything. I think the Hulk has a naive hope that Bruce is trying to bring you back alive. He liked you a lot too.”

“Hulk?”

“Yes. You treated him and Bruce well, protectively and with some unease due to your own situation and not theirs, so he appreciated you. I do believe your order for him to smash that first battle earned you a soft-spot.”

Steve did recall Hulk’s eager smirk during the battle with the Chitauri.

“Your friend will not change for another day until he collapses from exhaustion. Come along, there are more to see.”

Steve did not want to see any more.

Wanda was next. She was merely sitting in her room, holding a pillow to her chest, as she played with her power. Her face was free of the makeup she was so fond of and her eyes were splotched red.

“She saw you as her new brother or even a mother. Not a replacement, but just someone new that she could cling to.” The Walker explained. “You and Stark spoiled her quite a bit before the Accords.”

“Her mother?”

“You reminded Wanda of her. Calm, composed, always there. Always sensed when Wanda needed someone. Stark was like her father, someone loud and boisterous but forgiving and welcoming. It’s hard for her to handle another loss.”

“How is she handling it?”

“Fairing better than most despite what I said and how she looks. She looked up to you so she will soon try to follow in your footsteps. She’ll stand up and try to bring people together, to talk to them, and know she is there for them.” Now The Walker smiled. “This evening she will go and apologize properly to Vision for what she has done and then she will try to make pizza. Vision will help but they will fail so they order out. They will be the only ones to eat it though.”

Pride swelled in his chest as he looked at the lost, younger girl. “I’m happy to hear that.”

“She’s thinking of you here, but she’s done that the past few days, now she is thinking of her actions and mistakes and is talking to you for advice. She’s giving herself hallucinations to try and work things out before she does anything.”

Steve smiled softly and approached her, kneeling before her, “I am so proud of you. And I am so happy to hear you are working to get better. To help others get better. You’re really growing up.”

Wanda’s lips trembled as if they couldn’t decide if they were to smile or cry.

“That’s my brave girl. You go and tell Vision you’re sorry. That you followed the wrong person and that you want to make things as right as you possibly can.” He felt like he did not know if he wanted to cry or smile either. “You’ll make it. You’ll be ok.”

“Steve.” She hiccupped.

Steve picked himself up. “I guess I am ready for the next one.”

They went to Vision next. His mourning was different. It consisted of meditation and prolonged looks out windows or into empty space in general. How he managed to survive after what Thanos did…Steve did not care to know, it wasn’t important. All that mattered was that Vision was alive and would still be there for Wanda and the others.

“He saw you as a fine leader.” The Walker commented as they walked out. They were apparently leaving the Tower because the scene was changing again. “He appreciated how you trained and included him in everything.”

“Probably was not necessary given his power.”

“He’d respond that even the strongest could always learn plenty from the weakest. It’s a new perspective and he appreciates perspective.”

“Yeah, he does.” Steve looked around as the blackness changed and he was in a place that was familiar. “Sam’s house.” It looked as nice and clean-cut as before. It always amused Steve that Sam lived in a small Victorian-style dollhouse with a white fence, a garden, and dollies for coasters. Sam always kicked Steve in the shin when a comment was made but Steve loved the house. It was homely and bright.

Sam was in his kitchen making three plates of breakfast. His face was solemn and sagging slightly.

“I’m surprised he’s back in Washington.”

“He came to help out from the political end and start forming groups to help with the PTSD everyone is suffering through. He’s returning to New York by the end of the week for your funeral.”

Steve swallowed and chose to ignore the last part. “He’s working hard.” Steve frowned at Sam’s legs. “He has a cast.”

“Broken, tendons ripped, and knee popped out of socket. He really should not be standing but he thinks too much when he sits.”

Sam’s whole right leg was stuffed into a large cast and now that Steve paid more attention to his face he saw his face was swollen purple on the right side and his lips had quite a few stitches in them. He decided to make no comment about the injuries. They were painful to look at but appeared mild enough if he could stand and cook. “Who is he cooking for?”

“Barnes and King T’Challa.”

“Bucky? _And_ T’Challa?” Steve was surprised. “Really?”

“Each are upstairs in one of the bedrooms. Wilson took Barnes away from New York after everything. Wilson was all Barnes had after you died. And T’Challa wanted some private space to think and not be king. He also wished to tend to Barnes for you. The King views you as a respected warrior and a fallen hero. You will get a fine toast in honor at the end of the month when he returns home.”

It felt stupid but Steve was blushing hotly at the image. To get such an honor from the King of Wakanda was a bit stupefying.

“Wilson and Barnes will sleep together tomorrow.”

Now Steve choked on his own spit. “What?”

“It’ll start of physical and cathartic but it’ll hint at something more. Unfortunately, it will not last. Barnes’ wounds will take some time to heal and Wilson respects it. However, it will take too long before everything changes.”

Steve was trying to keep up after hearing about his best friends’ change in relationship but he was clearheaded enough to hear the foreboding tone. “What happens?”

“You will see later.”

His chest felt full of cotton but he knew not to argue. He was not sure he was ready to see what happened...happens…it hurt his head to think about. 

They took a few steps and Steve was in a bedroom with Bucky.

“Oh, Buck…”

His friend was as disheveled as when he found him after the UN-bombing. His face was too sharp and bristling with unshaven hair and a five ‘o’clock shadow that appeared permanent and as dark as the circles under his eyes. His hair, something old Bucky was so proud of, was flat and greasy. Bucky had no signs of tears but he certainly looked as empty as ever. His dark blue eyes were so dark and tired. He paced around the room with an obvious limp.

“He got hit in the lower-back towards the end of the battle. It’s almost all healed so what you see is primarily psychosomatic.”

“Sam is making him eat?”

“Sam and T’Challa both are making him eat and talk. They have yet to make him bathe. That will come tomorrow.”

“And that will start…uhm, everything?”

“Mhm.”

“He looks…ok.”

“He is not. He is suffering terribly by your loss. But he has handled loss and pain for many years now. He, much like Wanda, wishes to heal and help others like you would.”

“It doesn’t work?” Steve pried weakly.

“We’re not cheating the order, Steve. You will find out later, I promise you.” The Walker stared at Bucky with something akin to pity. “You have a strong friend. You truly inspired him to become a great man despite what all was done to him.”

“Nah, that’s all Bucky. He was always so strong and proud.”

“Is it?” The scene changed before they moved and Steve was in a small, steaming alley that reeked of rotten garbage.

Steve looked around in surprise. It was a big contrast to the bedroom they were just in. “Where are we?”

“Wimpy punk,” a voice Steve did not recognize spat out and all of a sudden a body was thrown between The Walker and himself.

“It’s me.” Steve gaped. “Mini-me.”

It was his pre-serum self. All tiny at 5’3, as scrawny as a twig branch with his head too big to hold up, and his nose bleeding. 

“Is…is that all you got?” He smaller self slurred and tried to get up.

“Recognize this moment?” The Walker asked.

“I actually have no idea when this happened.” Steve confessed sheepishly as he watched the smaller version stumble. “This happened about once a month.”

“It’s just an example. Look at you get up and fight. This was a result for sticking up for a woman of color getting harassed. She managed to get away and you arrived here. Ah, you took the first swing. You were impulsive. There are four men surrounding you, each over two hundred pounds. You barely reached a hundred.” The Walker’s mouth turned upwards. “And you threw another punch. And missed.”

“Yeah, I was not the brightest person around.” Steve winced when he was pushed back into the grimy ground hard. He wondered how he didn’t break more bones in his life. Honestly, the fact he made it to twenty was a miracle. He still could not regret it. His own fists itched to join in on the fight.

“Hey there! You’re not allowed back here.” Bucky called from the entrance. “Best leave now. The manager of the joint has already called the fuzz on you lot for messin up his property.” Bucky, in his short hair and shaved jaw, tilted his head. “Think they’re gonna go easy on ya to find you nudging a pretty boy into an alley? Might think you’re up for some smoochin.”

“Keep steppin,” the leader ordered. “We ain’t no fairies. We’re here to put this little runt in his place.”

“Yeah, which is why he’s on the ground all sprawled out and you got your shirt all unbuttoned. No one will believe four big thugs are needed for a beat down on a kid the size of a squirrel.” Bucky grinned and it was sharp and furious. “You are fairies, ain’t cha? Fuzz will really enjoy ya. Aww, and what’s that I see on the squirrel’s neck? A holy cross? You goin after a Catholic boy!”

The four looked down at Steve and sneered. 

“I think he’s learned his lesson. Get tappin along already.”

They left, fearful of Bucky’s words ringing true, and it was just the two of them. It felt so easy but Steve learned most bullies never wanted to risk getting caught and Bucky always had an air about him that he was not to be messed with. Most tended to move along after he showed up.

“Really, you’re a moron.” Bucky sighed as he approached and helped him up. “Why can’t you keep your head down?”

“They were hurtin someone else.” Steve grumbled and wiped his nose. “I ain’t no squirrel.”

“You weigh as much as one.” Bucky pushed him in proof. “You can’t save everyone, Stevie.”

“I can very well try.” Steve spat on the ground. “Better to get hurt or die tryin, right?”

Bucky’s eyes visibly softened. “I’d rather you didn’t.”

“Well, if I were better.” Steve looked at himself with a scowl. “I could do it without the dyin bit.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and slapped him upside the head. “You’re a moron. You’re not worse than anyone.”

“Tell that to my lungs.”

Bucky rolled his eyes again. “Always surprises me how you little you think of yourself when you do so much. No one else would step up.”

“Course they would.” Steve sniffed again and rolled up his dirty sleeves. “They just need some motivation. See a runt like me do it and live and they’ll do it too.”

“And if you die?”

Steve shrugged. “Hopefully they’ll be as stupid as I am.”

They walked off, Bucky thoroughly scolding him and threating Steve with tattling on him to his mama, and everything fell back in shadows.

“I was really stupid.”

“ _That_ is an argument I cannot fight against.”

Steve shrugged. “I rarely thought. I just flew into action when I thought it was right.” He cleared his throat when he felt his Brooklyn accent trying to sneak in after listening to the conversation. "Sometime without even talking about it. That wasn't a good thing."

“No, and it's led you to plenty of trouble. But look at what I've shown you, Steve. Barnes cared for you. Looked up to you. What you did there stuck with him for the rest of his life. You tried to do the right thing without any assurance of victory but you tried regardless. It may be stupid but it is something to appreciate.”

Steve felt more alone then ever seeing his old life and old Bucky. It was a sharp realization on where he was. And what he was leaving behind. “Where next?”

“Thor.”

Steve frowned. “Tony is last?”

“He’s the most important. He changes everything.”

Steve cracked a weak smile. “Of course he’s most important. Isn’t everything always about him?”

The change this time was different than the others. It took a few breaths longer and the shadows were darker. They felt filled with eyes and breath. Every few seconds he saw different colors shimmer out of the corner of his eyes but he was never able to confirm what he saw.

“Come along then,” a deep voice resonated around them. It made Steve’s bones tremble something fierce. “He’ll be pleased to know you visited.”

“Who—“

“Although on another realm, I will respect the customs of Asgard. We just passed Heimdall.”

“ _That_ was Heimdall?” Steve gaped. He had only met the guard in passing once and knew from Thor as being the gatekeeper of Asgard and seeing most everything in the worlds. “He sounds…bigger.”

“We are walking through his realm, the one he protects. He is supposed to sound intimidating. Makes it easier to ward off intruders.”

Steve wondered, as they passed, if Heimdall had heard his cries at the start of the journey.

When they stepped out into light it was on a beach filled with pebbles that twinkled like jewels and water that appeared both blue and gold. The air was different than what he was used to; it felt cleaner yet still stagnant of a city squished with people.

“Wow, so,” Steve slowly spun around to take in the new location. “This is Asgard.” It had been a plan to visit the city of Thor’s but it just never came to be. It was a travesty, Steve discovered, as he looked around at the overwhelming beauty of Thor’s world. His fingers itched to draw it all and he wanted to explore every corner within it. “It’s amazing. Tony would…” He coughed a bit. “Tony would love it.”

“Come along, Steve. Thor is close.”

They walked long enough for Steve to almost, almost, forget what they were doing. He was so lost in how alien and different and yet familiar Asgard was. His feet crunched on the pebbles and he had to fight a childish urge to jump into the ocean and drift off and forget about the walk he needed to take.

“There,” The Walker pointed.

It was hard to not know Thor from other people. He had a form that impressed upon everyone; tall, muscular, powerful, and yet soft. Steve had a feeling if he hadn’t fallen so hard for Tony he would’ve grown a pretty heavy crush on the god.

Thor looked stoned face as he stared upon the water that sloshed against his home world. In the distance, away from the shore and upon a balcony overlooking the god, Steve could vaguely make out a young brunette woman. It took his mind a few moments to click at whom it was, “Jane is here?”

“He brought her here for safety and comfort. A fallen shield-brother is not something to mourn alone. At least not always. Asgard throws festivals after burial for those who fall as a way to remember their loved ones and mourn together. The festival with your name will start tonight.”

“Oh.” Steve was seeing spots. Why was he getting so many honors? All he did was the right thing. He was a soldier so it was expected of him to die. He was a leader who brought ruin to his family so it was understandable for him to not earn favors. Why was he getting all of this?

“Brother.”

Thor closed his eyes a moment and nodded back in greeting. “Brother.”

Loki materialized beside Thor in a shimmer of gold and green. His back was straight and his face solemn. There was no usual gleeful smirk.

“He’s not mourning me, right?” Steve had to draw the line at that. There was no way the trickster god would ever mourn him. He was feeling a little too well loved as it was.

“No. But he feels for his brother. You recall Loki breaking in the battle and fighting along side, Thor, correct?”

“Yeah, he provided a lot of help.” Steve watched the family and felt like an intruder. “Thanos had tortured him. Before the Battle of New York.”

“Yes. He wanted revenge and to not have anyone go through what he did again. Loki may not be a good man in detail but he is one overall. He just likes to fight it.” The Walker said. “After their interaction with the Dark Elves and Ragnarok and the death of their mother…they have tried to piece some things back together.”

“That’s…really nice actually.” Steve smiled. He knew Thor suffered greatly from his estranged brother.

“It will be a build up of constant turmoil. Loki’s actions can be driven by shame, which can bring upon doubt, which brings upon giving up. It will take a lot of time.”

“Well, luckily they’re gods. They have some time to do that.”

“Yes, Thor will need the knowledge his brother is there with him.”

Steve’s stomach churned again. “Because of the big bad thing coming next.”

“I do believe your shield-brother is amongst us.” Loki said, startling Steve out of his thoughts of badness and nausea. “I think I can sense him. Interesting comrade you have, brother. He’s with something,” Loki’s brows rose in interest, “extra special.”

Thor lifted his head and looked right at Steve and smiled sadly. “He was a special man.” He gave a nod and salute. “Please find peace, brother-Steven. I will do what I can to protect the world as you had. I will look after the Avengers and uphold the honor you shared with all of us.” He pressed his fist over his heart. “And I shall protect brother-Stark during his time of mourning. He will not suffer this heartache alone.”

Steve stumbled back in surprise. “They know we’re here too?”

“Well, they are _gods_. They are very in tune with everything and a bit outside what is time and the flow of the universe.” The Walker shook his head. “They cannot see you. And Thor does not know what I am or that I am even here. I am not sure if Loki understands either. We do not really interact.”

Steve bit his lip and looked at Thor, his shield-brother, and nodded back. He did not care if they could not see or hear him. It felt nice to have someone he loves aware of him. “Thank you.”

“Please, do not hold Thor’s word against him.” The Walker urged. “He makes a promise he is unaware he can keep.”

His head snapped quickly to his travel-partner and all the blood drained from his face. “ _Tony_. What happens to Tony?”

“A lot, Steve.” And it took his arm and they were walking away. It did not bother Steve that they did not spend much time with Thor. “Too much.”

Steve was ready to run as the scenery changed again however it seemed The Walker kept true to his name and kept them both at a slow pace. “What happens?”

“You will see in mere moments. But I must warn you, out of all your comrades and friends, Stark takes your death the worst. It is his future and destination that has changed everything.” 

“Is he drinking?”

The Walker kept his mouth closed and Steve knew there was no point in pushing. The Walker was mysterious but quite obvious in his personality; he’d do and say nothing he did not wish to.

The walk to Tony could not happen soon enough and was approaching far too quickly.

“Here,” The Walker stopped and released Steve’s arm. “He is here.”

Steve took a second, just a second, to take a breath and rushed into the location where Tony was. He did not want to have Tony wait for him any longer.

The change was a surprise.

“This is my room. At the compound.” Steve blinked, surprised. He had expected to find Tony in his lab or training or most anywhere else. “In my…oh, god, Tony…” Steve felt his heart shatter at the sight.

Tony was on Steve’s bed, naked, shuddering as if he had a fever. All of Steve’s clothing was mixed in with the sheets and he was clenching a pillow close to his body and face. Next to him, resting as gentle as a lover would, was Steve’s shield. It was chipped, cracked, and looked to have some red stains left on it.

This was not what Steve expected.

“I…what…?”

“He does worse when he is away from something of yours. He shuts down, grows sick, or starts raging. If he has something of yours close he clings to it like a lifeline and is somewhat sedated.” The Walker said from behind. “I’ve taken you now to ten days after you have died. Your official funeral was yesterday and Stark has not moved from here since.”

Steve approached the bed slowly as if he could have a terrible impact on the usually strong man. “He’s like this because of me?”

“You were the most important thing to him. Stark does not do well with loss. And yours, I’m afraid, was the last string for his already frail psyche.”

“But,” Steve shook his head. “I knew Tony had problems, knew he was insecure, a-and…and that he struggled with some emotional things but he never came off as frail. He…” Steve’s voice wobbled and he choked over his last words. “He’s so strong.”

“With you, yes. Without you, no.”

Steve’s head shook again. “No, not with me. That’s insulting to him and all that he has accomplished and overcome. I was the _worst_ thing for him. He…he was the best part of the Avengers, the strongest and bravest of us all. Something about me…me of all people…no,” he kneeled down to try and touch the man’s darker skin and nearly spat out a foul curse when he phased through once more. “No, not for me.”

“You can deny it all you want, but this is what happens. And it is only the start of worse things.”

Steve whimpered as he tried to stroke Tony’s hair, something he swore he’d never feel embarrassed about wanting to do ever again. It burned him when his skin phased through the hair and he was left feeling empty.

“He tries three times to commit suicide but fails. His first attempt will happen in about three hours. FRIDAY informs Ms. Potts of his suspicious behavior and is stopped before he does anything.”

Steve covered his mouth as bile brewed threatening in his gut.

“Second time will be next week. It’ll be drugs. Despite the dose he’ll manage to be revived and will spend three weeks in the hospital. The final attempt he will try to jump off Avengers Tower but a suit will catch him He gives up, thinking it’s you telling him he’s meant for something else, and that, I’m afraid, is where it turns worse.”

“ _Worse_?!” Steve spat as the tears he was trying to hold back poured from his eyes. “He’s trying to kill himself, you fucking bastard! He’s…look at him! He’s suffering…b-because of me. It can’t get worse then this!”

“Yes, Steve,” The Walker grabbed his arm and pulled him away with monstrous strength that left no argument. “It can.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A warning about this chapter as it deals with some dark moments. There is some violence, mild torture, some out of character-ness (Tony is still love/loved), and some more angst. I don’t believe I wrote anything graphic or there is anything too dark that hasn’t been warned about yet. I do feel like it best to still give a little warning about it beforehand though.

-o-

Their new destination was unusual.

Blinding white, unnecessarily clean, and filled with shinning steel and cameras at most every turn. There were some people bustling about, their heads hovering over tablets, typing away with a mission or marching around with straight back and menacing weapons strapped to their persons. Their uniforms, and all of them were wearing one, were black and white but each had a red emblem on their shoulders.

Steve couldn’t make out what they were, didn’t care to, as his eyes were just too blurry with tears but it gave him a SHIELD-vibe and he found that wasn’t something he appreciated.

“I…what about Tony? I want to be back with Tony.” He didn’t care that he sounded pathetic and whiny. Desperate. He wanted to be near Tony and keep him from harming himself, to keep him happy. His lungs felt like concrete and his mind refused to let him picture anything but the broken man. “Oh, oh, god…Tony.”

“You don’t have much time to weep, Steve. I’ve brought you to something you must see. Ah,” The Walker paused and looked to the side. “Here he comes.”

A door _fwished_ open to the right and Tony Stark made his way out and into the metallic light.

“He’s…he’s a alive.” Steve whispered. 

“Of sorts.” The Walker watched as the dark-haired man nonchalantly fixed his cuffs, his face in a passive frown.

“We ready for the interrogation?” Tony asked no one in particular.

“Yes sir. We’re bringing him to you as we speak. Your office?” A computerized voice responded from the hallway walls.

“Yes. Be there in three minutes.” He ordered and then stalked off, passing by the crumpled and lost Steve.

“Hurry along, Steve.” His companion ordered and he followed after the man.

Steve did not need told twice. He wanted, needed, to see Tony. He picked himself up and rushed after the man with speed he didn’t know he still had in his noodle-like legs. He caught up to Tony easily and found himself absorbed in everything about him.

Nothing was right.

“Tony?” The man before him certainly looked like Tony but much like The Walker in Phil’s form he looked very wrong. Off. Sick. 

The Tony before him carried himself with a straight back and a firm mouth and eyes that held no kindness or humor. His form, which looked thicker with muscles than Steve was used to, was decked in a solid black suit. It looked odd on him. Almost all his suits, even the tuxedos, had something personal and purely Tony with it; glasses, some sort of cufflinks, a shirt that was a bit too opulent. It was a nice suit, pleasant on his body, but without any personality…without any Tony in it. The only thing on it that was different was the emblem on his shoulder that everyone else had. It was the symbol of Tony’s arc only in the Iron Man red and gold colors. Which Steve found foreboding for some odd reason.

His goatee was shaved straight, his hair no longer spiky and fun but longer and slicked back, with just a sight of sophisticated grey in the mix. There was a heavy scar on the right side of his face that started under the corner of the eye, disappeared into his hairline, and reappeared under his ear. It looked to have been a devastating head-wound at one point in time. Steve worried it happened during a moment where he tried to end his life.

Doors opened expectedly for him and anyone that appeared in the hall all stopped in a salute or moved out of the way as quickly as possible. Tony paid them no attention as he continued on his walk. That, too, wasn’t like Tony. For the most part, it was impossible to get anywhere on time because if Tony saw a person he’d stop to gabber about one thing or another—usually in hopes it would make him late and someone suffer but also because he was curious and friendly and loved talking.

He came into a large room that was so white it could provide people with a headache. At first Steve thought it was just that, a simple large room that matched the coldness of everything else. It was almost nothing but empty space but towards a massive window was a large, clean desk and a chair. There was no computer to be seen but Steve had a feeling the whole room was one, knowing Tony.

Tony came up to the chair and took his seat and did nothing but waited.

“What’s happening?” Steve’s throat felt raw and dried out.

“You are now seven years after your death.” The Walker started.

“Seven years?” Steve couldn’t believe it. “But we were…were just there. Right after it happened.”

“Steve, you are dead, remember? Time is really just a human-construct. You’re outside of that field. A few minutes for you can truly be a few years for the living. I have taken you to what you need to see. What has happened.”

“ _What_ is happening?” Steve pressed, exasperated. “Where are we?” 

“Sir,” the same voice from the hall broke Steve’s panic. “Permission to enter.”

“Yes, let’s get this started.” Tony lounged back against his chair. It didn’t so much as squeak and for some reason that bothered Steve. Everything was so sterile and perfect and so unlike Tony. 

“You are in Stark’s empire.” 

“What?”

People entered into the room with a limping man in the middle of the group. His hands bound behind him with heavy chains. He was shoved to the ground, to his knees, and everyone stepped five steps back in a synchronize movement and pointed their guns at his head.

“B-Bucky?” Steve rushed to his side. “What? What?” He couldn’t touch his friend; his fingers simply went through him like he was made of mist. Blood dripped from Bucky’s temple and made a painful contrast against the white floor beneath him. “ _What_?”

“A change no one predicted.” The Walker said. “I know this will pain you to watch but it is necessary. You _must_ understand.”

“Understand fucking _what_?”

“Barnes.” Tony greeted as he held out his hands in welcome. “So glad you could make it to our meeting on time.”

Still on his knees, Bucky kept his head bowed and his brows knitted together. His muscles quivered slightly like he was exhausted and used up. Not much wore Bucky out after the experiments but here it was as if he was using all his strength to remain sitting up.

“Now, don’t be rude. You’re already in big trouble. I heard you attempted another escape. No, no that won’t do.” Tony intertwined his fingers together, pressed his lips against them, and stared Bucky down. His brown eyes almost looked demonic.

“Tony!” Steve snarled, pulling himself to his feet and glared at the composed genius. “What has gotten into you? What the hell are you doing?”

“Dead, Steve.”

“I don’t care! This makes no sense! What the hell is going on? Why do I need to understand this for anything? What is Tony doing with Bucky?”

“As we heard before; he’s under interrogation. Though, he does not really have any information to know. This is all for pleasure of sorts. Punishment. As Stark stated, Barnes made an escape attempt and he is now in trouble for it.”

Steve pulled at his own hair, frustration, terror, and fury gripping him. “What the hell does any of that mean?”

“Still not talking.” Tony sighed and shook his head. Then he snapped his fingers and one of the guards took aim and fired. Small probes penetrated the skin of Bucky’s neck and then a visible current of blue electrical shock ripped through Bucky’s form. 

Bucky lurched and spasamed as his whole body trembled awkwardly as electricity surged through him. He groaned and then cried out in agony.

“Stop it! Tony STOP!”

As if he heard, Tony snapped his fingers again and the electrical shock halted.

“You know how this goes, Barnes. Let’s stop this. It’s gotten rather boring after all these years.”

“Best,” Bucky wheezed. “Best end it then.”

Steve sat down slowly, his whole body trembling.

“This is his kingdom.” The Walker explained. “After your death he looked back into the Accords and changed a lot. Enough to get the power he believed he needed to protect everything.”

All Steve could do was shake his head.

“It took a bit of time…but less than you’d expect. After Thanos, politics became rather simple. The majority feared for their lives more so than their freedom. There needed to be a sort of super leadership to help keep the population safe and to help rebuild. That is where Stark came in. With his new Accords he earned the right to hold more power than a singular person should.”

“No…no, no, no.”

“It started off well. The world was at peace. There was so much of what you fought for that came into reality. Then the peace started to get a little too controlling for some. Fights broke out. Plenty of people of your sort,” The Walker motioned to Steve, “some of the Avengers, mutants, others…they banded together to try and release Stark of this poisoned crown he placed on himself and get things back into something normal. Well, Stark did not appreciate it. He thought it a crime against you personally.”

“ _No_.”

“A crime against you is something punishable with execution.”

“Stop it.”

“The rebellion did not last long. Most all your friends who aren’t loyal to Stark are dead. Barnes is one of the last surviving members of it. With that constant reminder of Barnes on his face…that scar haunts him and how close he was to dying before his vision came true. This desperate need for power and give the world your happiness. Strange what death does to a person, hmm? What loss does?” His companion finished philosophically. Its tone was still so simple and nonchalant, like this was nothing more than an interesting spectacle.

“Tony wouldn’t do _this_.”

“Of course he would. He has.”

“Because of me? He…not for something so small. We’re friends. Best friends, yeah,” Steve’s voice cracked in a panic. “But this just doesn’t make sense. Why…” He had to bury his face between his knees or he was going to pass out. His head felt too light and his insides hurt.

“You know, of course. You are in love with him right back.”

“I,” now didn’t seem like an appropriate time to deny it. He was relatively sure his last words were something akin to “Tony, I adore you” but what good does that do now? “I do. But I…I couldn’t do this.”

“Of course not. You are different from one another. That is why you are in love.”

“I am tempted.” Tony said. He pushed himself away from the desk and picked himself off the chair. He sauntered to Bucky’s side but Steve read something predatory in his movements. “So much…so much of my misery has come from you after all.”

He stopped before Buck and stared for a few breaths.

The silent tension made Steve feel sick.

Tony’s face twisted into something hateful and he backhanded Bucky to the ground. “You know, keeping you alive is really becoming a hassle.” 

His foot stepped on Bucky’s wrist and he dug his heel against it. “Keeping you alive was a favor to him. But even he would’ve given up on you now.” He crouched down to stare into the cold eyes of the former assassin. “You don’t even try for him. You don’t want his good world anymore.”

Bucky’s bloodied lips curled. “Steve wanted peace and freedom. Not this, Stark.”

Tony’s fist smashed into Bucky’s face. 

“Wrong.” He hit him again. “Wrong.” And again. “WRONG!”

“Tony!” Steve reached for him to haul him away but his fingers phased through the man again. “No!” He reached again and again. “Stop!”

“You’re dead, Steven. You cannot do anything.”

“Stop saying that!” He felt like hew as losing his mind. Nothing made sense. He was suffocating in a nightmare. “This is Hell. This has to be Hell.”

“My Steve wanted peace. He wanted the war to finally end so he could be happy. So all of us could be happy. I’m giving it to him. Me. Just me.” Tony tilted his head to and fro for a few breaths. “I was the best for him. We were so close…so very, very close…he was nearly mine. The Accords were a hiccup but he was going to see my way on it. I would’ve compromised to make him comfortable. I’d do anything for him. No matter how stubborn or prideful he got.”

Bucky was wheezing but his serum was already showing signs of healing his damaged face. 

“My way was right and he knew it…just not how it was presented. Fair. Fair. My Steve was always fair.” Tony’s bloodied fists popped as they clenched. “Then you showed up.” His teeth grounded tightly against each other. “Why didn’t you just die when you fell off that train? If it weren’t for you…if you had only died…Steve wouldn’t have to keep protecting you.”

“Tony, no…no, no. Stop.”

“It’s because of you,” Tony straddled the man and his hands wrapped around Bucky’s throat. “My Steve lied to me. Because of you,” his fingers started to tighten, “my Steve lost his title. Because you took him away from me he wasn’t ready for Thanos. Because of you,” his fist connected hard against Bucky’s skull. “He died. He died. He fucking DIED!” His palm pressed hard over the trachea. “My Steve is dead! He’s dead! You killed him!”

“Tony, stop, stop, please, stop.” Steve begged, rocking a little. 

Like before, Tony stopped. He looked down at the mess he caused and slowly pulled himself back up and walked away from the limp figure. After a few deep breaths that calmed his panting he straightened his tie and hair. “He still breathing?”

One of the agents checked over Bucky’s still form. It took a few moments and Steve held his breath. The nameless agent gave a single nod and Steve folded over himself to gag, though nothing came out.

“Pity.” Tony ran a red, messy hand through his hair. “Get him back in his cell. Check on him in a few hours to see if he’s healing or not.” He walked back over to his seat and fell upon it gracefully. “And get someone here to clean this mess up. I have work to do and don’t want to see or smell it. So distracting.”

Steve refused to look up as the agents dragged Bucky’s body away. He kept his forehead pressed to the ground, gagging over nothing, and trembled like a withered leaf.

“I know it is hard, but you must get up Steve. There is more.” The Walker probably sensed there was little strength in him and reached down to pull him up. “You’re almost done.”

“I’m going to vomit.”

“Apologies, but when you’re dead you can’t. You can, obviously, feel the desire to.”

“This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening. Oh, god, oh god.” 

“This isn’t. Not yet. In this time, yes, but in some times not yet.”

Steve’s whole jaw shook as he swallowed down his need to cry. He wanted sense. He wanted his home and life back. He wanted his Tony.

He could only stumble a few steps into the next vision. It was a bedroom, spacious but empty and dark. There was a large metal table pressed against a wall with robotic parts spewed about along with skinny screwdrivers, papers, and photographs. The bed was king size and unkempt with some clothes discarded.

“Is…is this his room?” Steve needed to kneel back down. His legs simply had no strength in them to remain standing. 

“Yes. He’s coming back in. He’s going to your wall.” The Walker pointed.

“My what?” Steve turned around and found himself everywhere. Pictures, some model like and some natural, and clips of newspapers and articles about him. He saw one about his disappearance, another of his return, and many of his death. Placed behind some glass was his old Captain American uniform. It looked well taken care off despite its age.

Mounted on the wall, balanced on elegant metal shelves and in the middle of the mess of pictures, was his shield. 

“This…I don’t…” He hung his head and held it. It was pounding and darkness danced at the edge of his vision. But if he couldn’t vomit could he even faint? “Why is he doing this?”

“Because he loves you. He made you out to be his goodness.”

“That is bullshit. He was a good man before I ever appeared. This…” He motioned to the wall. “This has Tony’s obsessiveness written all over it. This is him clinging to unfair guilt. This is not him loving me.”

“For this new Stark, it is.”

“My head hurts.” Steve whimpered. He didn’t know what to do or think of any more.

“Here he is.”

Steve did not bother to look up when Tony entered. He was too worn out to see him and what face he was wearing. To see an expression that didn’t belong to Tony at all.

“Hello, darling.” He greeted. His voice warm, a contrast to how it was back in the office, and he slipped off his shoes and discarded his jacket. It was such normal movements. “It was a tough day. You won’t be happy. I’m sorry about that.”

He walked through Steve and to the wall where he picked up the shield and gently brushed his thumb over the carving of the star. He took it back to the bed and held it so tenderly in his lap.

Tony pressed his face against shield, hugging it to his chest, and nuzzled it the best he could with the odd angle. “I hurt Barnes again. I know, I know,” he hushed as he gently stroked the metal tenderly. His fingertips brushed over the indents that created the star and his lips followed and kissed it. “I get too temperamental.”

Steve bit at the edge of his thumb and wanted to cover his ears. He didn’t want to hear this. It was wrong. His Tony or not, tyrant or victim, this was a private moment for a broken man. It wasn’t for him to see. He didn’t want to see any of it.

“But you understand, of course. He wants to get in the way. Of all of this. He’d kill me if he got the chance. Which…which most days sounds so good.” His cheek rubbed against the shield. “I’d be with you again. That’s all I really want, Steve. I just want to be with you again.”

“Stop it. _Please_ Tony.”

“But,” he cleared his throat and shook his head. “I can’t. Not yet. Not when the world is this fucked up and dirty. I can’t die when the world is acting like this. Not like this. Not like this. It needs to be as pretty as you wanted it to be.” He laughed. “As pretty as you were.”

“Stop it.” He turned to look at his companion, begging. “Please. I don’t want to see this any more. Please.”

“You must understand this and the only way for you to understand it you must see it.”

“Why?” Steve hiccupped, tears dripping down his face. “I-I know I deserve Hell but…oh god, what did I do?”

The Walker sighed and kneeled down next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You do not deserve Hell, Steve Rogers. You have been punished enough for your mistakes and we know you will fix them in life. This is as a reminder of your importance. Of what balance you bring. On how detrimental you are to everything.”

“I…I’m just…a displaced kid from Brooklyn.”

“Who is the only one who could ever prevent a damaged man from shattering and bringing the whole world with him.” He looked back to Tony who was still talking to the shield like a lover.

“How? I’m _dead_.” It came out like a hateful spat. “You like to remind me of that.”

“I’m surprise you’re letting that stop you. You’ve always come out as a strong, stubborn man. Even when you were young.” The new shift surprised him and Steve’s stomach lurched at the lack of physical movement as his vision shifted drastically.

“Oh Stevie, what trouble are you getting into now?” A voice he was not expecting said in a humored whisper.

His head snapped up to see a beautiful woman with gold hair tied back out of her thin face. Her eyes were as blue as he remembered and her smile as strong and warm. 

“Ma-Mama,” Steve’s voice broke.

She was standing over a bowl with water. It was blue and chipped in many locations and steam rose up over the rim; it was a very familiar sight. She sloshed a hand-towel in the hot water and then twisted it tightly to rid it of excess droplets. “I swear, you just live to give me a headache.”

“I don’t mama, I promise.” His younger self, practically disappearing under the blankets, coughed. “It’s just a cold.”

After she pressed the warmed towel to his forehead she placed her hands firmly on her hips. “That you got after you snuck out. Don’t you start playing innocent with me.”

Sickly him snuggled under the covers to hide away from the stern glare. He looked to be only fourteen, if that age, and was tinier than his first vision of the past.

“Buck was having trouble. I wanted to help him out.”

“Oh, and what trouble is the Barnes son getting up to now?”

He shifted in his bed and avoided her eyes, “Sherry’s not feeling right. I went with Buck to find any medicine to help.”

Sarah’s face turned surprised, “She’s sick?”

“I…I remember…God, I nearly forgot about Bucky’s older sister.” Steve said. “She started feeling wrong and then she started to go downhill.”

“You were so weak yourself and yet you braved your health and the elements to try and find anything that could ease her.” The Walker reminded him. “With your mother’s teachings you thought you could find some herbs and get them to her. Which, you did. It helped her fever and aches.”

“Yeah,” he didn’t bother to try and pick himself up. His legs still felt too wrong to move properly. Despite how muscular he looked, he knew his younger counterpart probably had more strength in his limbs. “Lot of good it did. She dies five days from now.”

“Influenza.”

“Yes,” his fists clenched tightly, “it got a lot of us. Including me. My fever spikes for days. And I live through it _again_.” His shoulders slumped, “I felt…God, I lived and Sherry didn’t.”

“Another guilt that wasn’t yours to hold.”

“Oh, oh my boy.” Sarah sat at his side and combed her fingers through his matching hair. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You were working and…and I didn’t want to…to,” he groaned and started coughing. The whole room heard the rattling of his ribs. “Get you into trouble. You already sneak out medicine from the hospital for me.”

“So you went and looked for some yourself.”

“Found some.” He cracked a grin; his teeth were a bit yellowed from his fight with congestion. “It took some finagling but,” he coughed again, “but got some for her. Bucky is helping her out.”

“What did you find?”

“Went to the market and got sage, garlic…even managed to get honey.”

“Honey?” Her brows rose, impressed. “That isn’t exactly cheap.”

“Helps that I got your looks.”

Now Sarah burst out laughing, she held her stomach, and snorted. Steve always loved her laugh. She never giggled and covered her mouth like a proper lady. She’d throw her head back and let all her happiness out. “Now, that’s my charming boy.” She gently traced her fingers over his brow, something she always did to make him sleep when his body ached from illness. “Did you sneak some for your old lady?”

“Mama is never an old lady.” Steve smiled back.

“But a distinguished one.” Older Steve finished. Sarah was so young when Steve was born but she never thought age was something to judge a person on. She taught him to not judge anyone. God, he missed her.

“Good boy. Now, hand it over.” She wiggled her fingers and smirked when Steve pointed to his pack under the bed. “There we go.” Opening it up and took out the left-overs from the search. “Were you just going to say you happened upon these things if you hadn’t gotten sick?”

“Lie? _Me_? Never mama.”

Sarah ruffled his hair, which stuck up awkwardly from the sweat. “Lying about a lie. If you didn’t have such nice gifts for me I’d redden your ears.”

Steve hid even lower into the blankets.

“Sleep now, baby.” Her tone went soft. From this angle Steve could see the worry in her eyes. “I’ll get something hot for you to drink when you wake up.”

From the floor, Steve could just weakly reach for her as she passed by towards their small kitchen. “Mama.”

She stopped and turned back and smiled at both Steve’s. “You’ll do so good, Steve. Mama loves you so much.” And she closed the door and all lights around Steve and the Walker went out.

Steve folded over himself and started shaking in his sobs.

“You had such a strong mother. She was right about you.” He placed a hand on Steve’s trembling shoulders. 

“Why…why did you show this to me? All of this?”

“One more.” Was the only answer the Walker provided and helped him up to his feet.

“No, please, I don’t want to see any more.”

“There was so much more I could’ve shown you but you have almost seen enough. This is the last one.”

Steve was blinded again. The contrast from dark, black space into the intense daylight burned his retinas and he covered his eyes and tried not to whimper. He still saw no benefits in being dead if he still felt pain, couldn’t puke, and he suffered through emotional Hell.

“Here we are.”

Blinking, Steve took in the new, and hopefully final, location. They moved outside, to a disaster zone. Buildings were in ruin, dust was rising everywhere like steam, with broken sires wailing in the distance, and talks and cries all muffled together. 

And laughter was booming the area like thunder.

“Thanos. I’m-I’m back?” It was only minutes, or maybe hours ago, but it felt so long now. How had time slipped out of him like this?

“Steve!” Tony screamed out.

“ _Tony_ ,” and at this point in time it would still be his Tony. “Where…Tony, where…oh.” His frantic search stopped before it began. It did not take long to find him. He was crumpled over his body. Tony’s face was bare, outside of his HUD and Iron Man mask, and was bloodied and in a complete panic. He kept screaming, his voice hoarse as if he’d been roaring for hours, and he switched between nonsensical pleas and commands.

“Steve!” Tony screeched again as he shook Steve’s limp body.

“This…I’m dead here.” Steve pointed, looking around in absolute confusion.

“Not yet but you’re about to be. Where it all started. Where Tony Stark lost every last bit of his sanity and humanity. You stole it from him when you released your last breath.” The Walker looked at him. “A mistake. One you didn’t mean to make, of course. One you couldn’t really do anything against. Death happens.”

“I-I couldn’t…I couldn’t make myself a-and honor for you. I-I tried though. Tony.” His voice sounded broken and Steve could see blood dripping out of his own nostrils.

“I did confess to him.” Steve whispered, his words familiar but foreign to his ears. “I couldn’t remember for sure.”

“Y-You deserve…deserve the best. D-Don’t think other…wise. Only the best. Best for Tony…T-Tony.”

Even though he knew it was coming, had went through the process already, it still made Steve physical flinch and feel the desperate need to vomit once again when his final breath passed through his lips and his body went still. Watching his own death was an…experience to ay the least. To see his body as nothing but an empty vessel was haunting. 

“Steve…Steve, no, no. No. Don’t. Don’t do that. _Don’t do that_!” Tony’s metallic arms cradled his dead body with a gentleness even his future counterpart with the shield did not show. “I love you too. I do! I promise, I do! So don’t. Do. This! Steve, don’t leave me. Don’t leave me too. Please. Please.”

Tony started to shake his dead body again, his eyes wide with tears pouring down, and his face pulled into such an expression of agony and wrath.

“STEVE! ” Tony repeated over and over again. “NO!” 

Steve blocked his face as the suit’s repulsors went into overdrive. The blue light practically exploded out of the suit. When Steve could see again, Tony was standing with his arms held out and palms wide opened as he panted out, “you fucking bastard. _You fucking bastard_!”

“T-Tony?” His face had completely changed. Never had Steve seen such rage, such hate, on his face. He was usually the one who resorted to killing last of them all, so why was he looking this murderous? “Tony?”

“He killed him! He killed my Steve!” He screamed and it took Steve a few seconds to realize he was responding to someone talking to him through an ear piece. “He _killed_ him!”

“Wait, wait Tony—” He reached for the man he knew he couldn’t touch but the HUD went back over Tony’s face, covering the fearsome snarl, and he took off into the air. There was no pressure or heat but the movement pushed Steve back to the ground, hitting his elbows.

All he could do was watch him fly to the shadow looming in the distance and then the distant screaming of more suits ripping into the sky above.

“And that was it.” The Walker stated simply. “That was the official end of the man you knew as Tony Stark.”

“B-But…” There were no words left in him. 

The Walker wasted no time to allow Steve to find his lost words and moved right to the point, “Do you wish to go back to him?”

Steve looked up at not-Phil, eyes in a wide panic, “Back?”

“Go back in that broken body of yours and wake up. It’ll give you the chance to stop all of this from happening.” The Walker approached lonely Steve’s dead body. “However, you’ll go through a lot. You’ll need to assist Tony Stark and prevent him from losing himself to this new darkness and idea forming within him. You’ll be in pain. You’ll have more difficult choices. This is your chance to finally be free of things and move on. You can see your mother again. You will never have to sacrifice anything else.”

“I want to go back. Please.” He was up to his feet and pleaded without any thought. “Let me go back to him.”

“Are you sure?”

Steve nodded frantically. “I can help him. I can make it up to him. I won’t let Tony suffer like this anymore. Please, put me back.”

The Walker nodded. He almost looked pleased. “Brave man. Dear, brave man. I wish you all the luck.” And then his fist broke into Steve’s chest, cracking ribs, gripped his heart, and _squeezed_.

Steve gagged and held his arm, stunned and betrayed, and collapsed to his knees.

“Deep breaths, Steven. This will not be comfortable.” And he squeezed the heart again and again. “It may be hard to remember everything. Most mortal minds struggle with it, but do your best too. But you’ll have all you need.”

His vision blurred and he saw too many things at once; the Walker crushing his heart, faces of his teammates hovering around him, his mother smiling, and there was Tony…of course.

‘Always h-have to be the center of attention.’ He thought, his mind melting.

“Almost done.” The Walker promised but his voice was far off and disjointed with other voices. They were so loud and he knew he needed to follow them but he wasn’t sure how when there was an appendage through his torso.

“T-Tony.”

“STEVE!”

With Tony screaming in his ears and his chest ripping in two Steve fell back into blackness.

-o-

Steve gasped so lightly he was almost unsure he took in any air at all.

It took too long to get his eyes adjusted and even once they did he was unsure where he was. His throat felt raw and there was something up his nostrils that bothered him and made him want to sneeze. He got a feeling that he wouldn’t like the reaction if he did that. His whole body was awkwardly numb and in so much agony. Particularly his stomach and spine.

His bones felt like they were trying to crumble under his skin and disappear into his bed.

He was in bed and so weak…was he with mama? He remembered something about his mama and her laughing and he had a fever. But there was also Bucky with a metallic arm and Nat had cried.

And there was Tony, a lot of Tony, in his head. But that was rather normal. What wasn’t normal was how badly he wanted to cry out his name on repeat.

‘There was an animated show where they wouldn’t stop crying out names. Inu…something.’ Steve felt like giggling like a loon and crying like an infant. It was a very unpleasant symphony of emotions going through his body.

He closed his eyes and reopened them, unsure if it took him just a few seconds or days but he was able to see solid things rather than white squiggles and light. His body still hurt something terribly but it wasn’t too uncomfortable to breathe. Although his side was under a lot of pressure.

It took far too much energy to turn his head but was he ever glad he did. Tony was curled up next to him, pressed close, with his frizzled cheek smushed into the pillow and Steve’s shoulder.

There were dark circles under his eyes and he was muttering a bit which signaled to Steve he wasn’t quite asleep. 

Tony looked terrible and gorgeous. Everything felt right, although he still wasn’t sure why he felt wrong. Except on his right side, which really was falling asleep in a very painful way.

“You’re…squish’in me.”

“Steve.” Tony’s head snapped up and his eyes open. His face was gaunt and his cheeks bristling with unshaven hair. “Steve…oh, oh, God, Steve.”

“Tony.” He gave a weak smile to the man.

His expression was stunned and twisted up in something akin to pain and maybe something good. Either way it was better than…something else. Steve’s mind tried to provide him images of Tony but the face just looked wrong.

“Steve,” his fingers brushed over Steve’s cheeks and nose.

Steve blinked sluggishly. “’id we win?”

“Yes.” Tony’s voice was dried out and so weak.

“One ok?”

“Yes, oh…yes, we’re all ok.” He leaned in closer and Steve could see his fingers, bruised and cut and swollen, before they disappeared to comb through Steve’s hair. It felt nice and familiar. “You were the one who…who…”

“Yeah,” Steve looked around though his neck twitched in pain and rejected that idea. He finally got the sense of where he was though. “Bad, huh?”

“You died on the battlefield.” Tony whimpered. “You died, Steve. We were just so lucky we had so many…many people around to help revive you.” His hands were clinging to Steve’s own. 

“Oh,” he closed his eyes again but roused back to consciousness when Tony made a choked noise. “I-I’m still here.”

“Sorry, sorry. I know you must be exhausted. I was told when you woke up it was going to be a bit hard on you. I just,” he licked his lips nervously, “I don’t want to see your eyes closed just yet. It…just not yet.”

“Ok. Ok. I’ll get a second wind.” 

“You don’t have to do anything, baby. You’ve done enough for everyone. Just give me a few more moments with you awake. Please.”

“Anything for Tony.” That sounded eerily familiar to something else. It must’ve been something special because Tony’s face made that pained, happy expression again.

“You’re too good to me.”

“No. I wasn’t. Haven’t. You deserve…” he groaned as his chest gave him a warning twinge of pain when he tried to move. “Oh right…right, injured.”

“Yeah, Cap, injured. Very, very injured.” Tony gently placed his hands on Steve’s shoulders, massaging them a little bit but there was something firm in his squeeze. “You need to take it easy, ok? You’re clearly a bit…loopy.” His grin almost looked like his normal self. “You’re acting like a dumb blond.”

“Stereotyping d-doesn’t suit you.” Steve frowned as he remembered a suit and tie. On Tony? Yes, maybe. Also on someone else. Maybe. “I…saw Jupiter and…and Phil, I think.”

Tony pressed his head against Steve’s shoulder and listened, his fingers danced over Steve’s stomach, carefully avoiding wires still hooked up to him. “How was our dear agent?”

“I…can’t remember. I remember Phil’s face but not his name or voice.” Steve blinked. His eyes felt very heavy but he tried to stay awake for Tony. “We were walking through space.”

“Sounds like he beat me on a perfect date. Forget a romantic walk on the beach.” Tony’s fingers roamed from the stomach up to the tired face and gently traced the area above Steve’s eyebrows. “What was it like? Tell me.” 

“It was beautiful and sad.” He found it hard to concentrate with Tony speaking so softly, his warm body pressed against Steve’s own, and stroking his brow like his mama used to when he had a fever. “I wanted to show it to you.”

“I wanted to be there. So badly. I was so close to joining you.”

That sounded wrong but Steve had no idea why. His brain was clogged up with images of swirling stars and large golden planets. “I did see you…” 

“Oh?”

“No,” his face scrunched up. “No, it couldn’t have been. I think…you were angry and sad. You were hurting someone and holding my shield.” He yawned and he snuggled up close to the man. “It was nightmare you.”

“I thought I was always a nightmare for you? I give you migraines and heart attacks. Barnes tattled on you about that.” Tony’s calloused fingers trailed over the outline of Steve’s cheeks and hairline again and stopped over his lips. He pushed against them a little, trailing over the heart-shaped top of them. “Though I think you got me beat. Never…never do this again.”

“Promise. Don’t want to.”

“Hey,” Tony’s head bumped against his chin when Steve’s eyes started to drift close again. “Tell me.”

“What?” Steve took in a sharp breath to try and stay focused and awake, instead he got a whiff of Tony’s scent. It wasn’t the cleanest, neither of them had probably seen hot water in days, but it felt real and grounding. It was all Steve could ever want.

“That you love me.”

“I…How?” 

“You told me before. When you,” He licked his lips again and they trembled. “You told me that I was the best thing that ever happened to you. You told me that I was an honor and that you wanted to make me happy and that…that you were sorry. I…I don’t want that one. I want another one. Please. Tell me again.”

“I,” Steve could barely move his neck but he did so to properly look at Tony and his own exhausted eyes. “I am in love with you. Badly. Annoyingly.”

“Annoyingly?”

“Headaches, remember?” Steve smiled.

Tony returned the smile, though it was a little wobbly. “I’ll keep them at a minimum till you have a little more strength than a kitten.”

“You really are an honor, Tony.” With a shaky hand he reached up and pressed his fingers through Tony’s hair. It was such a nice feeling. He wondered why he had never done this before. 

“And you, Captain, are a blessing.” He kissed the corner of Steve’s mouth.

“I thought you were atheist?”

“And I thought you were dead. I can take in, accept, and appreciate a miracle now and again. You are a blessing to me.”

“I take it you,” Steve grinned, “you might return it?”

“God, yes,” he leaned down and kissed Steve again. “I had thought it’d be obvious with the love confession and previous kiss but you look like you may be high, so I’ll be a little more obvious. I, Tony Stark, am head over heels in love with you, Steve Rogers.”

“Went a little bureaucratic there.”

“Oh, you can still use big words when high. Good for you, baby.”

Steve smiled lovingly at Tony who returned it. No other words needed said as Tony pressed his forehead against Steve’s own. He gave a choked laugh and Steve had to return though it left him groaning, “my stomach.”

“That’s what happens when you get fucking stabbed.”

“D-Don’t remind me.” Steve relaxed back into his bed. “And language.”

“God, I was so scared I was going to lose that, you dork.” Tony whimpered and gently took Steve’s face and kissed him again.

-o-

“Tony, you sure I can’t help out at all?” Steve asked from the couch.

“You even think of getting up and I’ll chain you to the floor.”

“Don’t get kinky on me,” Steve huffed but smirked when Tony let out a broken groan from the kitchen. “Oh, did I give you ideas? _Sorry_.”

“I’m not going to stop cooking so I can come and screw you into the couch pillows, no matter how tempting it is. No sex for either of us until you get some food in you.” 

Steve shrugged, only mildly disappointed. It wasn’t like they had really done anything with each other anyway. His injuries had been too severe to handle anything strenuous for the past six weeks. But in his appointment that morning they got the green-light that his serum was taking care of most everything else that remained and they could ease into physical activities that night.

Sadly, Tony wasn’t ready to put in his supposed “amazing bed skills” to use and push Steve into said bed. Apparently, Steve needed nutrients before amazing sex.

Well, he technically died a virgin; he could wait till he ate some dinner.

“Are you sure you don’t need my help? You don’t have the best cooking skills.”

“I want you to keep yourself seated, babe. You’re still limping. Besides, I’m not that bad.” He huffed.

“You burnt the toast this morning.”

“In my defense, you distracted me walking out of the room with nothing but a t-shirt and you boxer-briefs. The ones that leave nothing to the imagination, especially for your glorious ass.”

“And in my defense, I was hungry and you bought those for me.” Steve argued as he pulled over his sketch book he started working on once his fingers and hands had enough strength. There were a lot of pictures of his mother and Phil. Just recently he started onto other images that never made sense but he felt compelled to draw.

“Ok, pizza is in the oven and I won’t burn it.” Tony came into the open family room of the Avenger Compound and sat down next to him, giving Steve’s neck a flirty kiss. 

With a grin, Steve elbowed him. “Don’t start something you’re not ready to finish, Stark. I’ve told you I’ve been ready for sex for over a week now and you still won’t do anything about it.”

“And you’re tempting me again. I’d love to bend you over already. But just not yet, baby. I want to make sure you’re up for it.” He kissed him again. “You _are_ feeling alright?”

Steve gave him a patient smile. It was the third time he’d asked and Tony usually asked it at least five times a day. He just pressed his back against Tony’s chest and got comfortable. He knew Tony felt better and stable when they were in touching distance. It eased his shaking hands and panicked eyes.

“Fine, Tony.” He was tempted to pry about Tony’s well-being especially after another night of nightmares, but Tony hadn’t wanted to talk about it that morning so he wouldn’t push just yet.

“You’ll let me know if you’re not fine, right?”

“Yes. I promise I will.”

“Ok.” Tony wrapped his arms around Steve and pressed his cheek against the blond hair. “Ok, good.”

Steve continued to draw and feel Tony’s heartbeat and promised himself he’d apply salve to Tony’s knuckles before bed. He’d been hitting the punching bag harder recently and leaving his fingers cut and bloody. 

But it would be ok. It needed time but they would be fine.

In their private space, pressed up against each other, all quiet except for the natural clicking of the house.

It was home and it was life.

And that was more than enough for Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well there you have it! I actually had a story similar to this started for a johnlock one-shot but never got to finish it. Maybe I’ll get back to it one day, as it’s a fun concept. I like it when my favorite characters get appreciated through death for some reason. It’s a twitch. I can’t help it. I do want to always bring them back though. I’m a sucker for happy endings that sort of overshadow all the angst. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed it! Please let me know what you think.


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